Hello again :)
This is my entry for Lolidge19's oneshot competition.
My prompts were:
Characters: Emmy and Clive
Setting: Anton's Castle
Prompts: Thunderstorms and Leather Jackets
I think I covered everything ^.^
Contains a mild smidge of OOC, hope that's alright :L
~nellen x
"Nope."
"Emmy, please, don't be so stubborn. I thought you said you'd do anything to help the Professor solve this puzzle."
"Anything, anything except wandering through creepy castle corridors with, ugh, of all people, you!" The woman exclaimed, digging her heels sharply into the ground.
Emmy hated castles, more than anything else in the world. Well, except for maybe Clive, of course.
"Charming," the boy muttered, rolling his eyes, "oh for goodness' sake Altava, we have to go in! What if we find those missing kids?"
"I... We won't though, I'm sure they're probably somewhere else. If the Professor really thought they were in here, he'd be in here looking too!"
"So you're saying he was trying to get rid of us?"
"No!"
"Emmy... Are... Are you scared to go in?"
Clive tried his best to frown, although his lips twitched slightly at the corners. In truth, he found the whole thing rather amusing, considering how Emmy would often relentlessly tease him if he showed even the slightest of fear.
He gave a defeated sigh, and sat down in the dirt, knowing that the two of them wouldn't make progress anytime soon.
He just didn't understand, the assignment was simple enough. Search the castle for clues on the whereabouts of Folsense's missing children, and report any findings to Layton and the others.
It should be easy. All we need to do is wander around a little, why does that have to be so hard?
"No, no I'm not scared, I'm very brave, actually," Emmy mumbled, sitting beside him with her knees tucked up to her chest.
She was scared, very scared, but there was no way on Earth she'd admit that to him.
No, no way at all!
"You sound like a ten-year old," he grinned, tracing pictures into the dust with his fingertips.
"I do not!"
"Yeah you do."
"Shut up Dove! I am older than you, you know!"
"Well start acting it then!"
"I am acting it!" The woman protested, a little hurt by his jokey insult, "I... I just... I'm not keen on old abandoned castles, that's all..."
"So you are scared?" Clive didn't even grin this time, too interested in his scribbles on the ground.
He kept glancing up at the castle, pausing in thought before tweaking the drawings and continuing.
"I... A bit..." She relented, staring intently at his work in a bid to change the subject, "what are you drawing?"
"A map of the castle we're about to explore."
"Clive, there's no way I'm goi-"
CLAP!
The heavens opened.
"Come on, inside whether you like it or not!" Clive yelled, as another clap of thunder shook the darkening skies. He grabbed Emmy's hand, pulling her up from the ground as the giant drops of rain began to splatter down upon the two.
The large wooden door creaked shut behind them, as they slid back down to the floor.
"See, it's not so bad," the boy smiled reassuringly, although his sudden kind streak was beginning to unnerve Emmy almost as much as the castle itself.
"It is scary," she whimpered childishly, "it's big and dark and damp and-"
Swish.
"Not anymore."
Clive had pulled a lighter from his pocket, the dim glow of the flame lighting up a surprising amount of space.
"Look," he continued, carefully dodging any of her 'why do you have a lighter?' questions. "If we're in here avoiding this bloody storm, which, if my estimation is correct, will last at least another hour or so, we might as well do some exploring."
He clambered to his feet, helping the woman stand up beside him. He was a head taller than Emmy, despite being two years her junior, a fact the two of them never ceased to bicker about.
"Clive, I... I really don't think I can..." She froze in her tracks, shaking her head timidly. "I... It-it's..."
"Emmy," he whispered, although he wasn't sure why. He'd never really seen this side of her before, well, ever, and it bothered him to see her so upset. "Emmy why don't you hold my hand?"
"H-huh?"
"Here," he laced his fingers through hers, "better?"
"Not massively."
Clive sighed quietly, giving her hand a squeeze, and slowly beginning to lead her down one of the hallways, "talk to me Altava."
"About?"
"Whatever takes your fancy, just talk."
"Um... I really like your jacket, you know. My favourite ex used to have on just like it, except you wear it better. I think that was the main reason we started going out, to be honest. He wore a leather jacket, I thought it was very rock 'n' roll, we went to a few gigs-"
"What gigs did you go to?"
"Let's see, this was back in the... Eighties? Nineties? I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be your kind of thing."
"It's two years, Emmy, not two centuries."
"Either way."
"So tell me about this favourite ex, was he good-looking?" The boy continued, turning to follow another of the cold stone corridors. He wasn't overly keen on dim, damp passages either, but decided he should stay strong for Emmy.
After all, a gentleman never showed fear in front of a lady, right?
"I... I'd rather not talk about him, if that's alright," she mumbled sheepishly, subconsciously tightening her grip on his hand as they stumbled theie way along.
"Oh come on, Altava, you can talk for England. Fine, exes probably weren't a good subject choice anyways, I've got too many to count. So go on, tell me something else, anything. Got any pets?" He muttered, never lifting his gaze from the direction they were headed in. He couldn't afford to get them lost now.
"No, I had some when I was little though. I had two cats, tabbies, Rosy and Jim. I... I was only little when I named them. Fish too, oh, and a cockatoo."
"A whatawho?"
"A cockatoo. Quaint little bird, beautiful thing. Actually, little may not be such an appropriate term in retrospect. Old Archie was quite the size when he flew off to join the big birdcage in the sky."
"Oh... I'm sorry for your loss."
"He was very old, a proper gentleman too. He would give you and the Professor a run for your money, I'm sure," Emmy giggled, shivering slightly as they turned down a particularly drafty passageway.
"Is that so?" Clive chuckled, frowning slightly as she shivered again. "I'm sorry, you must be freezing. Here, take this," he shrugged off his jacket, slipping it around her shoulders.
"Thanks," she mumbled, zipping it back up, "won't you get cold though?"
"Nah," he smiled, "I'm a human radiator. Besides, there's no way I'm letting a bird beat me in the Gentleman Games."
